


Under Cover

by tisfan



Series: MCU Kink Bingo [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Coming In Pants, M/M, Movie Night, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 19:16:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12514564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Movie nights in the Avenger's Tower are a thing. Nat's fleece blankets are a thing. And apparently, Bucky's little wicked habit of being naughty under a blanket... are also a thing.Tony's in trouble.Again.





	Under Cover

**Author's Note:**

> that sounds like a lot of amazing winteriron smut and i can't wiat! but i do have a prompt if youwant: semi-public or public sex with bucky playing with tony's hole, nipples, the inside of his thighs, and cock lots of dirty talk in front of the other avengers, like at a movie night or party. and he tells tony to be quiet or they'll draw attention but then tries to make him moan.
> 
> This fills my MCU Kink Bingo card, square N2 (Teasing)  
> And also this prompt that I've had in my inbox for... quite some time. So, thanks Nonny.

Logically, Tony’s predicament was all Natasha’s fault. It was convoluted, but listen; Natasha had been the one to buy the fleece blankets. They’d been sort of a joke; each one had an Avenger’s face and symbol on it -- well, aside from Iron Man’s, which had the helmet on it, which Tony might have been a little offended by, except that he saw his face damn near everywhere else, and while it was a nice enough face, as faces went, it held his skull in and his hair up and what more did he want from a face anyway -- and sort of not. Because they were warm and fuzzy and soft and perfect for cuddling under while watching movies.

Movie nights had always been a thing; after the tenth (or hundredth or so) pop culture reference that Tony made and Steve blinked at, Tony started throwing movies at him. Sometimes even literally. And then Fury had suggested they be team-bonding things, so… every Tuesday night, if they weren’t saving the world, the whole team was parked out, eating popcorn, or pizza, or takeout, or one time Bruce brought in some fresh-picked cherries that were so good Tony was ready to call for a new rendition of the bible, where the serpent offered Eve cherries, because those fucking things were incredible. Hard to resist. And got cherry stains everywhere.

But now, with the blankets, movie nights because a… _thing_.

He wasn’t sure, exactly, how it became a _thing_. The blankets made for the illusion of privacy. Sort of.

He and Bucky had always sat together, even before they were dating. That wasn’t hard to figure out; Bucky was hot, and he was funny, and he had a metal arm, and Tony got a major engineering boner being around him, and maybe that was enough of a reason. And then they were dating and of course they sat next to each other, Bucky with his metal arm looped around Tony’s shoulders.

The first night they’d had the blankets, Bucky’d snagged the Captain America one, which was just embarrassing, but whatever. Put his arm around Tony’s shoulders, like usual, and draped the blanket over their laps.

About ten minutes into the movie, Bucky’s other hand ended up on Tony’s thigh. Where it lingered for the entire rest of the film. Nothing big, just four fingers that sometimes tightened, or brushed along the inseam of his jeans. Not too risque, but there’d been something secret about it, and Tony’d ended up half hard through the whole film and practically dragged them upstairs as soon as the movie was over. He didn’t even remember what the movie was, because he hadn’t been able to concentrate. At all.

It didn’t happen all the time. Bucky was content to just watch the fucking movie. Sometimes. But other times, Tony’d be trying to pay attention to whatever was on the screen and Bucky’s hand would end up on his leg. The crease of his thigh. Nudging, every once in a while, at his balls. One time, Tony’d ended up with Bucky’s fingers teasing so long at his nipple, through his shirt, that it had ended up bruised and aching.

Just often enough that Tony was tempted to run a variables program and see if there was something specific that set Bucky off. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with that information, if there was a pattern to be analyzed, so he hadn’t done it yet.

Tony loved it.

Even if he would never, in a million years, admit it.

The new sofa -- the last one had been lost in an unfortunate incident involving Clint and the ever worrisome phrase “oops” -- had loungers on either side. Which was nice, because Tony really liked laying on his stomach, propping his chin up on his hands, and watching television that way. It reminded him of watching cartoons as a kid. Which he’d never been allowed to do, and probably why he took such malicious glee in doing it as an adult. He kicked his feet up behind him, pressed tight up against Bucky’s leg, and snuggled in to watch _Conan the Barbarian_.

“Don’t move, baby.”

Tony had no fucking clue how Bucky did that; talked without moving his lips, his whisper carrying directly to Tony’s ears and no other. Nat didn’t even twitch; Tony knew that for a fact because he happened to be looking right at her when Bucky spoke.

Tony nudged Bucky in the chest with his foot; they were laying opposite each other, Tony’s elbows propped near Bucky’s knee, Tony’s knees by Bucky’s hip. _I heard you,_ that little nudge said. Bucky would know. He always did, somehow.

Bucky nudged Tony’s thighs apart, just a little, just… enough.

_Oh, god._

Even through Tony’s pants, Bucky’s metal fingers were warm. He stroked, starting from the base of Tony’s spine and running all the way down to the curve of his ass.

Tony made a tiny, tiny sound, something just a little more like a whimper than a sigh.

Bucky flicked him on the inside of the thigh. Sharp, a little painful. Tony barely managed to not knock over the popcorn bowl.

Bucky reached lower, stroking the underside of Tony’s balls.

“Bucky…”

“Shhh, Tony,” Bucky said, letting everyone hear that time. “I’m watchin’ the movie.”

The _hell_ he was.

A brief squeeze of the metal hand on Tony’s thigh, and then…

_Holy shit, was that a knife?_

Tony froze. He trusted his boyfriend, but those were _his balls_ and he knew how sharp Bucky kept his blades. A whisper of cloth, covered by a particularly loud upswing in the cheesy music, and Bucky’d split the whole back of Tony’s pants, right up the seam.

_Jesus_.

A second switch of the blade and Tony couldn’t help a tiny _meep_ of terror as the tip of the blade brushed over his boxers.

A moment later, Bucky’s fingers were _inside_ Tony’s pants, having given himself an access point.

Bucky’s finger stroked him, metal on flesh.  

Tony was practically chewing his lip off, trying to stay still, trying to keep quiet. Every time he twitched, Bucky would stop moving, and Tony couldn’t decide what was worse; being touched or _not_ being touched.

Bucky teased a circle around Tony’s hole, light brushes followed by sensual strokes. Gave new meaning to the word heavy petting. Tony shivered, lowering his head even further until his cheek was resting on his arms, trying not to push back into the touch, not to arch his back, not to thrust up, to put his ass on display for Bucky’s attention.

Tony nearly missed the sound of a cap opening, under the cover of Arnold Schwarzenegger decapitating someone, but then Bucky’s fingers were slick with lube, and oh, fucking christ…

He was still just teasing, the bastard. Playing with Tony’s hole, rubbing over it. Bucky had finer motor control with the metal hand than most people did with flesh and blood. He pushed into Tony’s asshole, breaching him, and then his finger juddered, practically vibrating. A soft, barely-there moan slithered out between Tony’s teeth and the offending finger was withdrawn instantly.

“You falling asleep, Tony?” Steve asked. He and Nat were curled up under the Hulk blanket, Nat laying back against his chest, cuddled in the vee between Steve’s legs.

“No,” Tony managed, his jaw tight. “I’m fine.”

“Beer run,” Clint announced, flipping backward off the sofa, which sent a jolt through the whole piece of furniture and (probably) accidentally impaling Tony on Bucky’s finger.

Tony squeaked, squirming, and Bucky called out, “get me one, wouldja?”

Bucky stroked him one more time, pulled his finger out and then reached up to take the beer that Clint handed him. _With his metal hand._

Tony barely had time to shift positions. He tugged the fleece up until he was gripping it with both hands. Because of course Bucky was going to let his fingers get cold with condensation off the beer can.

Even braced for it, Tony let out a low whine, like a deflating balloon, when Bucky’d hand moved again, sliding under the blanket and up to press under Tony’s balls. _Jesus Fuck,_ how was that even fair. Shivers unravelled his spine as Bucky continued to tease and torment him, metal fingers warming under the flash of heat from Tony’s skin.

God, he was hard as a brick, his erection heavy against his belly, squashed against his skin. Aching for friction, even if he was just rubbing it out against the sofa. His boxers were sticky, practically matted to his skin with precome, and Bucky kept going. Through the whole damn movie, just a single finger, moving in and out with slow, deliberate strokes. Brushing against his prostate once in a while, not enough, not nearly enough.

And then long moments of nothing, or just the unmoving finger in his ass, when Tony squirmed too much, or made too much noise. Of course, Bucky had super fucking hearing, and too much noise sometimes was called _breathing_ to normal people. The son of a bitch.

It’s not like Tony didn’t have a reputation for being fidgety, anyway. Who the hell was going to notice if he squirmed around on the sofaaaaaaaaa, oh, Christ, that was not fair, not fair, not fair. Bucky was tapping his prostate, little short jabs that sent bolts of pleasure up and down his spine, making sparks dance behind his eyelids.

Christ, he was going to bite a hole in his lip if…

He shifted; trying for subtle and probably missing the mark, but Conan was battling the terrible special-effects snake, Basil Polesouris’s soundtrack swelling, and who the fuck was going to notice?

Tony let his hips roll, once, twice, getting a little friction on his aching dick, with Bucky’s fingers moving sensual and slow in his ass, and then…

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.” Tony muffled the sound in the blankets, biting down on his fabric covered hand until he knew he was going to be tasting fleece fibers for a week.

Having an orgasm was like that first sip of coffee in the morning, one little motion and for just a second, the burden of knowing he would die some day was completely _gone_. Like walking into air conditioned mini mall after being out in the heat. Every cell in his body stretched and relaxed and fucking glowed. Like he could be seen from orbit. Like he could peer into a black hole and _understand_. Tony arched his back, pushing down into the sofa cushions and knowing he was soaking his pants and being 100% okay with that for a moment. He’d get back to being slightly embarrassed in a moment. After his brain got over the rush, and…

He went limp with relief, exhaustion. Cuddled against Bucky’s thigh.

The credit scrawl went by, barely noticed.

“You guys wanna watch the next one?” Clint asked.

“Pee break,” Nat announced, “then yeah.” She scrambled out from under the blanket, patting Steve’s leg as she got up.

“I’m _starving_ ,” Steve added. “Gonna order a pizza. Anyone want one?” Which immediately started the standard argument about toppings and crust options and was ended, as usual, with JARVIS reminding everyone that they had a standing order, and he’d already filled it, delivery expected in twenty minutes.

“I think Tony’s asleep,” Bucky said.

Liar, but Tony stayed limp on the sofa.

“Oh,” Steve commented, and then made an effort to keep his voice down, like that had ever had any bearing on whether or not Tony was sleeping.

“I’ll carry him up to bed,” Bucky said. The others cleared out of the room, slowly, as people went to relieve their bladders, get drinks, fetch plates.

Bucky rolled Tony up in the fleece like a Stark burrito and flipped the sofa cushion with an easy, graceful movement.

“Are you trying to get me to come again?” Tony asked, slitting one eye.

“Shut up,” Bucky said, his neck flushing. “You’re s’posed to be asleep.”

Always funny how Bucky could be totally shameless one minute, and flushing like a schoolboy over a simple compliment. Tony obediently closed his eyes and let Bucky pick him up in a princess carry.

“You are a _horrible_ tease,” Tony said as the elevator doors closed behind them.

“You love it.”

“I do,” Tony admitted. “Cleaning service probably loves it a bit less.”

“With what you’re payin’ ‘em? Babydoll, they don’t even care.”

Tony make a noise of agreement in his throat. “You gonna let me return the favor?” Not really a question, but he wanted to make sure Bucky knew he wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.

“Oh, I got some ideas,” Bucky said, low and dark in his ear.

Tony squirmed a little inside his fleece roll-up. “Remind me to thank Nat again, for the blankets.”


End file.
